...doesn't mean you
should! And today's meal was a solid demonstration of that very astute observation by my dear husband. Yes, I had my first disaster. It was bound to happen sooner or later, and with my choice of recipes today I knew I was courting it. They just sounded wrong. So, why did I pick them you ask? Two reasons. One is that part of my goal with this project is to stretch my boundaries. How will I learn if I don't try new things? The other is that today's cookbook was full of odd sounding recipes - it was too tempting not to experiment, but ginger ale salad was just a bit too much.
The book: Time Life, American Cooking: The Great West
The menu:
- Main Course: Lamb and Broccoli St. Francis, Eggplant-Banana (no joke!) Casserole, Cous-cous (thank goodness for something normal!)
- Dessert: Postre Borracho
Lamb and Broccoli St. Francis is just confused. It starts out as lamb stew, then you throw in broccoli florets, and finally, you finish it like a chicken fricassee. When I read the recipe I figured the broccoli would be fine, but I was a little concerned about the finish. Egg-yolk-thickened lemon juice didn't really seem like a good match for the meaty, oniony stew base. I thought maybe I'd learn something new, though, so I gave it a try (that, and I was determined to experiment with the eggplant-banana casserole but there weren't many recipes that had any hope of serving as a suitable main dish with that as the side). My instinct was right. The fricassee-like finish was a disaster. It both looked and tasted rather like...well...vomit. Yuck!
The eggplant-banana casserole was even worse. I like eggplant. I like tomatoes (in fact, if I were stranded on a desert island with only 3 types of foods, tomatoes would probably be one). I like bananas. I could not conceive that mixing the three would have happy results, but I just had to try. In fact, the finished dish looked ok, with nicely overlapping slices of eggplant on top. Taste was a different question, though. Under no circumstances should one ever mix bananas with tomatoes and eggplant. Not ever. Not for any reason. If the stew looked like vomit, this was worse. It made me vomit. Literally. I honestly cannot remember the last time I tasted anything so bad. And I know it has to be the mix of ingredients. I ate several slices of the eggplant after they were prepped (seasoned and lightly fried). I also tasted the banana after it had been sauteed in butter. The tomato slices were just salted before being added to the casserole, so they can't have been the problem.
We ended up tossing both the stew and the eggplant and getting take-out from the little place down the street. It was that bad.
Dessert at least redeemed the meal. The cake is rich but not too sweet until it is soaked in a simple syrup doctored with vodka. The recipe instructs the baker to use a skewer to poke holes in the top. I did, but evidently not enough. The syrup mostly ran down the sides of the cake and pooled in the bottom. The hour the book recommended letting the cake sit in the syrup wasn't enough and the cake was a bit dry. By the next day, though, it had thoroughly absorbed the syrup and was delicious. I'd definitely make it again (but a day ahead).
Next time we explore some of the myriad cultures that have contributed to American cooking.
PS Before you discount main courses from this book, I should let you know that my very favorite chili recipe comes from it. Just assume that if it sounds too weird to be good, it probably is.
